Seven Desires
by Poisoned Scarlet
Summary: It's what makes you human. Ed/Win.


_**Seven Desires  
by. **Poisoned Scarlet_

**Summary: **It's what makes you human.  
**Rating: **K+**  
Genre: **Drama/Romance.**  
Pairing: **Ed/Win.**  
A/N: **Summer School does things to people. The best part? We had a substitute so I did absolutely nothing for 4 hours and 30 minutes. I did _nothing _except come up with this, which is a good thing for you people.**  
Story Notes: **_Post-Promise Day._

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any other media mentioned in this work of fiction.

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**i. Sloth**

He lies on the grass and gazes at the sky. It is a rich blue, clean of any clouds, and he thinks that this is what good living is made of. The sun is low on the horizon, starting to blanket the land with its bright rays as the morning chill begins to dwindle and the afternoon heat starts to spread.

He does nothing as all of this develops.

He lies there, thinking.

He knows that no one else is awake and he likes it that way; likes having some time for himself, time to gather his thoughts and sort out his feelings. It has been six months since the fateful Promised Day and his thoughts always fleet that day in which he felt the greatest anguish and the greatest joy.

Two of those months were spent hospitalized.

Four of those in the silence of the countryside.

His closes his eyes and inhales the fresh air.

He doesn't mind wasting the day lazing around.

**ii. Envy**

There are sounds that rouse him awake, that vanish the peaceful bubble he has created around himself, and when he opens his eyes, they land on _her_.

She has a basket full of clean laundry in her arms and she is smiling, chuckling as his brother comes out of the backdoor without the help of a crutch.

The string on the laundry line snaps and she frowns and places the load on the ground. She holds the torn end in one hand and he sees her mutter something under her breath.

His brother is right there beside her, scratching his cheek before he grabs the singed end and, with a practiced clap of his hands, repairs the line that earns him a surprised look before a smile brightens her face.

There is something twisting in his stomach, something nasty and bitter, and it only grows as his brother and Winry continue to laugh and she picks up a few pieces of laundry in her hands.

His eyes flicker downward, to where he knows his arms lay, and there's something bubbling up his throat, choking him, as his brother claps his hands again and creates a table where the laundry could be placed upon instead of the dew-licked floor.

He remembers when he could do that.

He remembers when his hands created wonders, when his hands could awe a crowd, when his hands could save a person and when his hands could kill a life.

He remembers and it only chokes him up further.

**iii. Pride**

He closes his eyes, tries to repress the emotion that suffocates him, and fervently denies the logic that coldly shuns him.

There is nothing he would not give his brother so it is useless to envy for something he willing gave away.

There is nothing the world could offer that would make him turn against the last shred of family his has and there is nothing Truth could say that would make him redo that fateful day six months, twelve days, five hours ago.

He turns his head back up to the sky and he thinks that these sardonic thoughts will get him nowhere if he continues to dwell on them.

And he almost believes it.

**iv. Greed**

Their laughter distracts him again and he turns, gazing at both of them as Winry hangs a shirt on the reenforced line and Alphonse leans against the post, saying something that makes her laugh once more.

Her laughter is contagious and soon Alphonse begins to laugh as well.

He doesn't like it.

He wants her laughter all for himself and he does nothing to deny it. Her laugh, her smile, her sweet words, and her warming gaze: he wants it on _him_, for _him_, and not for anyone else – not even the brother he vowed to give the world to if it came down to it.

He remembers Greed and how he used to think that such powerful avarice was disgusting and naïve; something no one should revere and no one should feel if they could help it.

But for a second he thinks he finally understands him, the longer they laugh.

**v. Gluttony**

Sometimes he find himself starved for her smile; for her everything.

He does not know when he began needing her in such a way but he does know that its an insatiable feeling that he thinks is only growing worse and worse the more time he spends with her; the more time he shares his memories, his experiences, his doubts and his pains.

A part of him tries to push her away again, to keep her at the arms-length he has kept her at for so long, but it is difficult when her every smile is disarming and her every laugh is craved.

The craving is unquenchable.

He wonders once more when it became like this.

His eyes stray back to his brother.

He knows that the hunger is the same.

**vi. Wrath**

He feels his mouth twist oddly, his nose wrinkle and his eyes begin to burn like the embers in the hearth of the fireplace.

His hands clench at his side, the longer they laugh, the longer she has her eyes on his kin, and he could feel knuckles pop; the jaw hurt from the pressure; and the devastating snare of resentment surge through him when his brother draws closer and touches her shoulder.

The anger is uncontainable.

He can hear himself growl.

He does not understand it; this rage that continues forth unabated and starts to eat at him the longer he watches their interaction – the private moment he wishes he was involved in – and he finds himself unable to abnegate the fury no matter what he thinks; what he deludes himself with.

There is nothing he would not give his brother.

Nothing, except the girl with the bright blue eyes and craftsman hands.

**vii. Lust**

It is no surprise to him or to anyone else that Winry Rockbell has grown up to be a desirable woman. She has silky blonde tresses and her eyes are a majestic crystalline blue. Her skin seems flawless in the early light of the day and her laugh is as melodious as it is contagious.

He can see his brother's smile widen a little; her own smile widen a little more.

There is no denying the flare of desire; the spark of want that flickers through his rusted gold eyes.

Edward watches his brother draw back abruptly, smile sheepishly and point to the mountainous part of Resembool that can be seen from their spot on the yard.

There is no denying the need.

There is no denying the lust.

And he thinks that maybe he should not blame his brother as much because he has also felt those desires and he has also allowed himself a few moments of weakness under her adoring gaze.

His brother looks off to the side, to him, and he see's his eyes widen with surprise.

He calls him over, alerting the woman of his presence, and he suddenly feels the crash of guilt begin to gnaw at him when he catches her friendly wave and his brothers beaming smile.

But he does not take back the flurry of emotions.

He stands and walks toward them, unrepentant for the sloth of normal days; the pride that slinks within; the lust for her body; the glutinous want; the greed to have her everything; the envy of his brothers skills and the wrath of sharing his deepest weakness.

It's what makes you human.

And he knows a lot about that, as the sun rises higher in the sky.


End file.
